The Poor Man’s Girl
Marie blinked against the harsh light of the midday sun and cringed as she looked out over the scruffy back garden. It was a disaster zone, separated from the neighbour’s property by a short wooden fence with several panels missing. She could see straight into their garden and see its condition was even worse than the one she was presently in.
Long weedy grass surrounded an ugly cement slab patio which ran the length of the short house. Old tyres lay strewn over growing grass like some sort of morbid art deco. She couldn’t help wonder why it always seemed to be tyres that were so symbolic of this kind of neighbourhood. These people, who allowed their homes to fall into such a state of disrepair, prepared to live in such squalor. Perhaps it was how they felt inside, reflected on the outside. It was like hanging a sign out the front reading, ‘tis scum lives here so f off!’
“It really is the only place I’ve got on my books that I can offer you at such short notice,” Harry, her plump and ill-suited estate agent repeated. Marie could hear a note of desperation in his voice. The house had probably been on his list for months and she doubted anyone would be interested in actually choosing to live in such an impoverished area of the city. Not if they had a choice.
After seeing the state of the garden and the sort of neighbours they could have, most potential property seekers would probably run a mile! At least that’s how she felt looking out the dirty window. Still, she thought, pushing her long red hair behind her ears, right now she had little choice. Her new post at the University started a week on Monday and she didn’t fancy staying in some pokey hotel room until the right property came along. She needed to have her stuff with her, all of it and more importantly, her old cat, Tiger.
“Okay, I guess if it’s all you’ve got, I’ll take it but only on a rolling weekly contract. I want to be out of this dump the second I find something better okay and it aint negotiable,” she insisted. As soon as something more suitable came along, she’d skip out this place faster than a cat off a hot tin roof. She watched Harry as he nodded agreement and could see his forehead dripping large drops of sweat, the suit not helping in this weather.
As he pulled out the application forms from his smart leather briefcase, the sun crept behind thick clouds, instantly darkening the tiny kitchen they were doing the deal in. She felt a chill run down her back and frowning, hoped this was not an omen.
It took Marie less than a week to move into the run down little house. Most of her boxes remained unpacked along the small hallway. She had no intention of unpacking them as she already had her name on an old Victorian property that had come up since moving in here which was closer to the University. The place would be ready in three weeks and she had already started counting down the days. A suitcase of clothes, a box of books, her laptop, a few kitchen items and her cosmetics was about as far as she was prepared to go in the unpacking department.
She did have a quaint old set of garden furniture that she put up out the back. England was halfway through an unusually warm and dry summer so she was planned to make the most of it wherever she was. In the mornings she liked to catch the early sun while sipping hot coffee. It was her favourite way to start her day. Marie had a pile of books she was in the middle of editing and she preferred working outside whenever she could.
On her seventh morning since moving in and with sunglasses propped on top of her head, she spotted her neighbour for the first time. A slim, petite woman in a halter neck maxi dress stood at the back door smoking a cigarette. She was beautifully pale but looked utterly miserable. Marie waved and the woman waved back, a false smile instantly appearing.
“Hey there,” Marie said loud enough for her voice to carry over to the
Marie blinked against the harsh light of the midday sun and cringed as she looked out over the scruffy back garden. It was a disaster zone, separated from the neighbour’s property by a short wooden fence with several panels missing. She could see straight into their garden and see its condition was even worse than the one she was presently in.
Long weedy grass surrounded an ugly cement slab patio which ran the length of the short house. Old tyres lay strewn over growing grass like some sort of morbid art deco. She couldn’t help wonder why it always seemed to be tyres that were so symbolic of this kind of neighbourhood. These people, who allowed their homes to fall into such a state of disrepair, prepared to live in such squalor. Perhaps it was how they felt inside, reflected on the outside. It was like hanging a sign out the front reading, ‘tis scum lives here so f off!’
“It really is the only place I’ve got on my books that I can offer you at such short notice,” Harry, her plump and ill-suited estate agent repeated. Marie could hear a note of desperation in his voice. The house had probably been on his list for months and she doubted anyone would be interested in actually choosing to live in such an impoverished area of the city. Not if they had a choice.
After seeing the state of the garden and the sort of neighbours they could have, most potential property seekers would probably run a mile! At least that’s how she felt looking out the dirty window. Still, she thought, pushing her long red hair behind her ears, right now she had little choice. Her new post at the University started a week on Monday and she didn’t fancy staying in some pokey hotel room until the right property came along. She needed to have her stuff with her, all of it and more importantly, her old cat, Tiger.
“Okay, I guess if it’s all you’ve got, I’ll take it but only on a rolling weekly contract. I want to be out of this dump the second I find something better okay and it aint negotiable,” she insisted. As soon as something more suitable came along, she’d skip out this place faster than a cat off a hot tin roof. She watched Harry as he nodded agreement and could see his forehead dripping large drops of sweat, the suit not helping in this weather.
As he pulled out the application forms from his smart leather briefcase, the sun crept behind thick clouds, instantly darkening the tiny kitchen they were doing the deal in. She felt a chill run down her back and frowning, hoped this was not an omen.
It took Marie less than a week to move into the run down little house. Most of her boxes remained unpacked along the small hallway. She had no intention of unpacking them as she already had her name on an old Victorian property that had come up since moving in here which was closer to the University. The place would be ready in three weeks and she had already started counting down the days. A suitcase of clothes, a box of books, her laptop, a few kitchen items and her cosmetics was about as far as she was prepared to go in the unpacking department.
She did have a quaint old set of garden furniture that she put up out the back. England was halfway through an unusually warm and dry summer so she was planned to make the most of it wherever she was. In the mornings she liked to catch the early sun while sipping hot coffee. It was her favourite way to start her day. Marie had a pile of books she was in the middle of editing and she preferred working outside whenever she could.
On her seventh morning since moving in and with sunglasses propped on top of her head, she spotted her neighbour for the first time. A slim, petite woman in a halter neck maxi dress stood at the back door smoking a cigarette. She was beautifully pale but looked utterly miserable. Marie waved and the woman waved back, a false smile instantly appearing.
“Hey there,” Marie said loud enough for her voice to carry over to the
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